


OSS #12 Time Travel

by somewhereelse



Series: bee-eye-en-gee-oh [12]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, F/M, Mild Language, Olicity Summer Sizzle, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewhereelse/pseuds/somewhereelse
Summary: Oliver’s got nothing planned for his day off. What should be some downtime at HQ turns into a nightmare he just can’t escape.Literally.To make matters worse, Felicity’s caught in this mess, too.A continuation of theOSS #5 Demons AUverse.





	OSS #12 Time Travel

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically time travel, right?

Days not on assignment are kind of monotonous.

Okay, they’re a lot monotonous, especially when he’s as senior as he is and not subject to any kind of daily oversight or supervision. It means Oliver wakes up at approximately—or, you know, _exactly_ —5:30, works out, showers, and is in the cafeteria by 8. The first batch of coffee is always gone by 8:30 so his timing is extremely well-calculated.

His routine means he doesn’t notice until breakfast, which is embarrassing given that his entire job and continued survival depend on his observational skills.

Here’s what sparks the realization:

John Diggle, the most senior demon hunter, spills his cup of coffee.

Let’s replay that:

John Diggle, the most senior demon hunter, spills his cup of coffee _for the second day in a row._

Oliver’s fork clatters to his plate, and he looks around the room as everyone decelerates to slow motion in his mind. Sara is still wearing that ridiculous costume from her last undercover assignment. Rene is again pressing a compress to his face after a training “accident” that resulted in a black eye. The giant Doomsday-style clock displays yesterday’s date in glowing red numbers.

A tray drops onto the table, and everything speeds up back to normal pace. Felicity is standing on the other side of the table and looking especially frazzled. She leans over towards him, and he forces himself to focus, and not on the view down her tank top.

“Oliver,” her voice is an urgent whisper, “This is going to sound crazy. I swear I’m not. No drugs or hard hits to the head either. I think I’m stuck. Stuck in a—”

He doesn’t need more than a second to come to the same realization, finishing her sentence with a groan.

“ _Time loop_.”

* * *

They wrack their brains but neither can figure out what the ever loving frak is going on, why they seem to be the only two stuck in this cycle, or how to break it. 

So they start experimenting.

Felicity skips her morning meeting, endures a lecture, but nothing changes. Oliver runs twice as long, misses breakfast, and nothing changes. They save John from spilling his coffee, replace Rene’s compresses before he notices, and nothing changes. They leave, fly as far as they can, and nothing changes. They tell people, get subjected to psych evals, and nothing changes. They stay up, watch the clock complete its cycle, and it ticks its way back into the same day.

Because nothing _ever_ changes.

Day after day, they wake up, and it is _still_ the same day. Aside from the fear of being stuck in this cycle in perpetuity, it’s almost kind of nice. The monotony and lack of consequences feels like a vacation of sorts. They catch up on sleep and television, and Oliver crafts a new training regimen for Felicity, honing her skills even more beyond that of a typical rookie.

On their own metaphorical island, Oliver and Felicity grow closer. They’re at once intimately familiar with the other and increasingly uncomfortable with the tension that seeps into their every interaction. They know it’s (somewhat) a consequence of being stuck in this together, but that doesn’t stop them.

* * *

“When you going to jump on that?”

Felicity shakes herself out of the reverie of watching Oliver’s ass walk out the door and focuses on her friend/coworker.

Sara laughs at her deer-in-headlights expression. “You were checking out Ollie _hard_. He’s got it just as bad. When are you going to put us all out of our misery and you know...” With a wink, she clinks her coffee mug against Felicity’s.

“It’s... complicated,” Felicity finishes lamely.

Because it’s not really. They’re in this loop for the unforeseeable future, and there really are practically no options left for entertainment besides sex. But it’s a fear of hers—and maybe Oliver’s, too, who knows?—that their getting together in this circumstance would be a desperation move. Felicity Smoak may be a lot of things but she is no one’s last resort.

So, yes, she’s been tap dancing around every opportunity to be truly alone with Oliver because she wouldn’t be able to take it if they broke out of this time loop and suddenly he reverts back to form and just isn’t interested anymore.

Sara rolls her eyes at the unsatisfactory answer.

“Boo,” she tips the last of her coffee back, “I’ve got to go. The Bureau’s on my ass about this stupid assignment.”

Nodding, Felicity tunes out. She’s only had this part of the conversation about fifty times already. There are some things about the day that are variable, and used to give her hope about waking up to a tomorrow, but other spots are inevitable. Like how she and Sara always have this conversation or how John always spills his coffee, or at least starts to until she or Oliver intervene and save it.

No matter how much they push, how ridiculous they act, to get those stubborn scenes to break, they only bend and find some way to contort and happen anyway. 

This would be a lot less frustrating if there were an actual point to the repetition. A mystery to solve or a McGuffin to find, and until they unlock the exact sequence of events throughout the day, they’re stuck. But there’s no discernible endgame, just day after day after day of the same old shit. 

Felicity reminds herself that it could be worse. She could be stuck reliving that day she got swallowed by a plant or actually got tropical poison ivy or fell into quicksand that was straight out of _The Princess Bride_ or any of her other embarrassing adventures in the first five months on the job. At least this is just a day of downtime at HQ.

And, hey, aside from the weird tension, she and Oliver have been getting along stupendously, forced as they are to interact as the only two people aware of the loop. They’ve upped the ante on her training, and, assuming she gets to keep those skills after waking up, she’ll be ready to punish some of her fellow hunters for ever doubting her. Oliver, thankfully, has never been one of those doubters, although it probably helped that he witnessed her beginner’s luck beheading a demon in her first encounter.

Today is one of those training sessions. Oliver’s given her a bow and arrow, his preferred weapon when not using his inherited sword, and has her shooting at targets fifty feet away. Or at least that’s what it says on paper.

In practice, Oliver’s practically wrapped around her, feet bracketing hers and hands gently lifting her elbows to correct her form. He leans in close to whisper reminders in her ear, and Felicity doesn’t have to turn to see his smug smirk at her shiver. But she’s gotten used to his proximity like this so it’s Sara’s wolf whistle from across the room that makes her blush.

“I think Felicity knows how to _release an arrow_ ,” Sara calls out, her innuendo clear even if it’s a euphemism no one’s ever used before.

Felicity rolls her eyes and does just that, the arrow sinking into the target’s bullseye. With an excited grin, she spins in place to absorb Oliver’s quiet “Congratulations.” His bright eyes and proud smile always do something to her insides, and if it weren’t for the observers and what a stupendously poor idea it is, she would jump into his arms.

They’re just standing there, making eyes at each other, when it happens.

The ground shakes violently. Oliver’s hands fly to her shoulders, the same time she reaches for his elbows, and they brace each other, trying to regain their footing. It’s impossible because the shaking doesn’t subside but intensifies.

Felicity tears her panicked eyes away from Oliver’s to find that no one else is reacting. Sara’s practicing with her bo stick, John is wiping down some equipment, and the hunters lined up at the shooting range are still firing off shots. Once again, it’s just her and Oliver in this. She meets his eyes again and finds confusion warring with alarm.

Before either of them can voice the question, the world goes dark.

* * *

“Ow,” Felicity mutters, using a hand to shield her eyes from the incessant light.

A moment’s pause and then, “ _Welcome back, Ms. Smoak._ ”

It takes her a second to place the voice. Felicity pulls her hand down and peeks an eye open to find that the room has been significantly darkened. Thank Google for the benefits of artificial intelligence.

“Gideon?” she asks, throat scratchy.

“ _Of course, Ms. Smoak_ ,” the voice sounds perturbed, as if annoyed Felicity had to ask. She suppresses a smile at the sassy AI. “ _Please remain calm. Drs. Snow and Palmer are on their way. They are currently assessing Mr. Queen._ ”

“Assessing him for what?” she mutters, reaching for a spare towel to cover the IV in her arm. _Ugh, needles_. Give her a mouth-breathing demon with halitosis any day of the week.

“ _Any lingering concerns from the coma_ ,” Gideon answers promptly, “ _You were both sedated for over a month._ ”

“A month?!” Felicity repeats as if just realizing the strangeness of the situation. She’s woken up in the medbay before after a training accident or an assignment gone wrong. In some ways, she’s familiar with having no recollection of the last few days, but it’s never been for _over a month_.

Her revelation coincides with the door to her room sliding open and Caitlin and Ray rushing in.

“We were on the way, Gideon,” Caitlin chides, “There’s such a thing as easing her into it.”

Ray pushes down on her shoulders insistently, and Felicity grumbles before acquiescing to lie down again.

“Vitals look good,” Caitlin confirms, “but how are you feeling?”

Felicity twists her mouth at the abrupt questioning. “Weird, like I just woke up from a really vivid dream. I don’t— I don’t remember what happened? I mean, why I was put in a coma? And Oliver?”

“That was my idea,” Ray boasts proudly only for Gideon to clear her throat, “And, uh, Gideon’s execution.”

Caitlin nudges him out of the way to lean against the armrest. “You were both assigned to a demon with enhanced abilities. The Bureau didn’t have many details so it was a high risk assignment. But everything seemed to go fine and you guys beheaded it and delivered it back here. Then the next morning, neither of you woke up.”

“We moved you to observation in the medbay and found that your vitals were on a twenty-four hour loop. We figured the demon—Cisco named it the Dream Machine—had powers that made you relive a stressful day of your life because your vitals were spiking all over the place. After a few days of this, we knew we had to do something because it was taking a ridiculous toll on your bodies.”

Felicity feels appropriately weirded out and must look it, too, because Ray jumps in to further complicate/explain things.

“We couldn’t figure out how to break the time loop right away so I figured while we worked on that, it might be nice for you guys to take a vacation. Kind of a vacation. Something that at least wouldn’t trigger a heart attack. Gideon transported your consciousnesses into her mainframe and had you relive the last quiet day at HQ. It was pretty easy, all things considered, since she’s passively monitoring us all the time anyway.”

Felicity closes her eyes in realization and shakes her head in disbelief. “John always spills his coffee, I always talk to Sara about her assignment.”

When Caitlin and Ray goggle at her, she explains, “Those were things that happened every day. Oliver had some, too. They must have been moments Gideon actively logged around us so they were, like, touchstones she used to recreate the day.”

“ _Correct, Ms. Smoak, as always. I simulated your and Mr. Queen’s other interactions based on what I know of everyone’s personalities._ ”

The doctors exchange incredulous looks. “You remember the days?”

“Not the nightmares but, yeah, all forty-two days stuck in a time loop with Oliver,” Felicity sighs like she was annoyed with the experience, then she questions in concern, “Was I not supposed to?”

“We weren’t sure exactly what would happen to your memories, but good to know if we ever need it again,” Ray muses. He’s looking off into space, and Felicity can only imagine how he’s going to try to conceptualize this into a weapon or medical procedure.

“Does... does Oliver remember?” Felicity ventures quietly.

If he doesn’t...

Well, she’s not sure how exactly she’s going to behave if she’s the only one of them to have these “memories” of their time together. All the times they ran away from HQ to have an adventure, all the training sessions together, all the bonding and the _anticipation_. Felicity might never be able to look him in the eye again.

“He didn’t mention it,” Caitlin replies diplomatically, and Felicity curses her confidentiality rules. “He was very quiet when we explained things to him,” she tacks on as if sensing Felicity’s disappointment.

Damn, she needs to work on her poker face.

“At least until we ran over here,” Ray reminds Caitlin. “You weren’t supposed to come out of it at the same time. We were staggering the times so we could be there when both of you woke up.”

“ _I’m sorry, Dr. Palmer, but their consciousnesses were very intertwined. It would have been more disruptive to remove them one at a time._ ”

Felicity fights a blush because, damn it, even the AI is making suggestive comments.

Did that mean Gideon could see what they were doing each day while they were in her mainframe? Probably. Which meant she also saw all those moments of charged sexual tension and the jagged breakdowns at the idea of never breaking the loop.

 _Great_.

“Do you guys mind if I get some rest?”

Caitlin’s on her feet in a moment, tugging on the oblivious Ray’s arm. “Of course. We want you to stay in here for a few days for observation then we’ll release you to your quarters. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Felicity waves a tired hand at the question that’s technically an order.

“Glad to have you back!” Ray calls over his shoulder as Caitlin pulls him out of the room.

* * *

Oliver ducks back into the hallway as Caitlin and Ray turn the corner. The doctors are chatting quietly, probably discussing how to keep him and Felicity as guinea pigs for a little longer. Making sure again that the coast is clear, Oliver approaches the door to Felicity’s medbay room and then pauses at the metal behemoth with heavily restricted access.

The door eases open with a quiet whir.

“Thanks, Gideon,” he tosses out and slides through the opening.

Felicity’s lying on the reclined armchair that passes for a hospital bed around here, head dropped back and eyes closed.

Oliver’s heart rate picks up. What if they couldn’t wake her up? Maybe Caitlin and Ray ran out of his room, all apologies, not because Felicity was waking up but because she couldn’t? All Gideon said was a cryptic, “ _Drs. Snow and Palmer, you are needed in Ms. Smoak’s room._ ”

Fuck, is she still trapped in that time loop? It wasn’t so bad most of the time when he wasn’t freaking out about never breaking out. But _Felicity_ being there with him was the reason it wasn’t so bad. What if she got stuck in there _alone_? Or maybe Gideon recreated him like everyone else? No, she would catch on in half a second that it wasn’t the _real_ him, just some simulation, and that would make her panic even _more_ , that he was gone or _dead_ and it was just her—

“I can hear you hyperventilating.”

Oliver looks over and sees that she’s sitting up and her eyes are open and she’s reaching an arm towards him. For a moment, he stares at the outstretched hand and realizes that it’s for him to _hold_ and that he _does_ want to hold Felicity’s hand. He needs it to ground himself here, like when they were in there.

Her hand is soft in his. It’s almost a reset. Felicity before the time loop had developed calluses from her training, but their sedentary— _comatose_ —lifestyle has softened them, unlike his which were worn in from years ago.

“I’m fine, you know. Like you are,” she says it as both question and statement.

Oliver nods and reassures her, “I am.”

He’s quiet for a minute, looking over her, making sure she’s fine physically. Honestly, he shouldn’t be walking right now, and his atrophied muscles have made that perfectly clear, but when no one came back to update him, he couldn’t wait. Staggering down the short hallway, he’d been determined to make sure his partner made it out of the coma same as he did.

The door slides open, and Oliver springs to a defensive stance in front of Felicity. He tries to, at least, but his body completely protests the movement.

It’s just Caitlin, but his pained groan is immediately caught by her attentive ears.

“There you are!” Back into the hallway, she yells, “Ray, I found him! Told you he’d be in Felicity’s!”

“We were just in there!” is the loud complaint. “Sneaky demon hunters!”

“Come on,” she scolds him, sliding under his arm for support. “You’re both supposed to be resting, and you have your own room.”

Oliver feels vaguely like a misbehaving child but doesn’t protest when Caitlin leads him back out on unsteady legs.

He looks over his shoulder to find Felicity staring at him, brow furrowed like he’s a mystery to solve. There’s a lot he wants to talk to her about, like the entire time they spent together and what it means exactly now that they’re back. But that’s not really something he wants to bring up in front of Caitlin or Ray who’s come over to support his other side.

“Hey,” Felicity startles out of her trance to look at him expectantly, “Bet you can’t hit that bullseye again.”

A smile blooms across Felicity’s face, full and wide and relieved. It’s the very first thing to make him feel like the time loop is really over. Not waking up to Ray Palmer hovering anxiously over him, not the doctors’ perfectly logical—well, perfectly logical for their world—explanation for the time loop, and not even the very real consequence of diminished muscle mass from a month and a half of complete inactivity. All he needs is Felicity’s smile, unburdened by the worries of “wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff," in her words.

Then the door slides shut.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my hands-down favorite episode of Legends. Tala Ashe is a freaking treasure, and I still haven’t watched the Season 4 finale out of protest for/fear of what they did to Zari by reducing her to a love interest (and for Nate, ugh, of all legends. Could have picked any of them, and they went with Nate, who was _just_ ”heartbroken” over Amaya and in possession of a perfectly fulfilling storyline with his dad and the Time Bureau). _Le sigh_.


End file.
